Chapter 1: Chapter 1

<p>Kaylyn Strome. That was her name. Whoever knew it only knew the rumours. You know, that she disappeared off the map sometime after secondary school and never went to college. Or that she most likely moved to Los Angeles to pursue a career in acting and wound up a waitress instead. One would wish those things were the case, because I know the truth about Kaylyn Strome. It all began with her mother.<br/><br/><br/><br/>❧<br/><br/><br/><br/> Angela wept at the sight of herself in the mirror that evening. Nothing on Earth mattered to anyone other than money and exploitation in her small world of local prostitution. At twenty-four years old, she did not know where she was going for the life of her. Given what she had involved herself in of recent, there was no doubt the law would catch up to her at some point. Who did have her back? No one she knew of. The looks she received from authority had always been disparaging and the way people treated her personally wasn't any better. A lone wolf in life yet a tiger in bed, Angela had known of one way to get back at society. And that was disappearing from it as a whole.<br/> It wasn't like she had lead herself down a dark path deliberately. In fact, her childhood was rather colourful. She was born a joyful baby to her mother, Esmeralda Whitley. Nothing more was to be said other than the woman had tried her very best in life only to drop to the floor of a fatal heart attack in her mid forties. <br/> "Taken from us too early," Angela's aunt had always said. At every reunion. As if everyone wasn't damn tired of the woman's raspy voice, she had to drone on about her condolences that were always delivered rather selfishly. <br/>    The truth was, Angela did deserve much better than the circumstances she had been given in life. At fifteen years old, she was motherless. Don't even bother wondering where her father was - the man had drank himself to death as soon as he had found out he was going to serve life in prison for strangling his ex wife. Esmeralda had not known until the police informed her months before their wedding. <br/>    Angela did not know where to turn in life afterward. She didn't believe in the ratrace. With that, she began spending time at local bars getting to know men and sleeping with many for cash to pay her landlord. She found it cathartic, dolling herself up and being appreciated by strangers she did not need to develop feelings for.<br/>    Soon enough, she was known as the town harlot. Everyone and their wife knew what she did and how she made her living. Her friends began to become distant, swearing they had no interest in being associated with her. The unfortunate adrenaline Angela gained from being noticed overtook her. <br/>    She went shopping daily with her excessive funds. She bought dresses, heels, and brassieres and additionally had her hair done in a provocative red shade cut to shoulder length. She felt unstoppably attractive, like she was beginning to taste the beginning end of high society. No one on Earth could take the confidence she gained away from her.<br/>    Angela slowly regained her joy towards living as the luxuries around her grew. Her apartment was an epitome of lush green exotic plants that met pale yellow wall paint and many, many art pieces she had snagged at her favourite gallery. She was finding happiness despite having no one in her life. The independence was great. The massive amount of time alone was used productively. Aside from her drinking habit, Angela was doing well.<br/>    It wasn't until she agreed to do an orgy for $2500 that she had gotten herself into huge trouble. The fact that she was taking a risk occurred to her when she was in the motel room staring at fifteen men of several different ethnicities - all that she had recognized from the bar - lined up waiting to get a piece of her.<br/>   She lay down in the bed, nervously waiting for the first man to approach her. She had already done something wrong, she could tell in the confused looks she received. If there was an etiquette, she had no idea what it was.<br/>    "No. no," the eldest man spoke up. He had to be in his sixties. "You come here and suck off all of us first. Have you never done this before?" <br/>    Help me, God.<br/>    "Why should we see what she's like first?" Another voice rang through the room. That question threw her off guard despite her present vexation. "He said he'll take any one younger than Foxy. And you know how grimey that hoe has become."<br/>    "What's going on?" Angela inquired.<br/>    "Shut up, bitch. Get on your knees while we talk."<br/>   She looked toward the door, which was being blocked by a man she didn't notice was in the room before. He looked extremely impatient. She didn't know if he was even a customer or a pimp ready to kidnap her. At this point, she knew none of those men were customers of hers. <br/>    She didn't move. She was partially paralyzed by fear and the rest of her attempted to plan some sort of negotiation. Stupid girl. Nineteen years old living in some libidinous fairytale where bad men did not exist. <br/>    The first man approached her quickly. Before Angela could open her mouth, he had undone his pants and was grabbing the back of her head to maneuver her over to his length. She resisted. He was disgruntled by her choice of action and yanked on her hair, pulling her face toward him. He smelled rancid.<br/>    Humiliated by the rape, she bit down on his cock. He yelped and his hand met her pretty face. <br/>Whack!<br/>    Angela screamed, to which the men came to the sides of her client and held his arms, restraining him from being able to injure her with every bit of his anger. He spat curse words at her, claiming he knew people who would be happy to mutilate her in the back of a van.<br/>    "Do that again and we won't stop him from fuckin' killing you." One of the men warned. <br/>    Angela understood this was her only time to run. She took a chance and ran past the man who had just spoken to her, nearly stumbling in her new heels. As soon as she got to the door, it swung open. There she met the same man she hadn't noticed in the room. <br/>    He stared straight at her before he kicked her ankle, causing her to fall down and hit her head off the door frame. Angela struggled to get back on her feet when she felt a hand grab her hair once again and begin mashing her skull into the door frame repeatedly. She stopped struggling as her vision faded to black.</p>